Kaleidoscope
by Lindir
Summary: Matt, Jeff, and Amy aren't as familiar with each other's different faces as they thought they were, as they find out in a series of strange, yet comforting heart-to-heart talks.
1. Scatter

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Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. 

Kaleidoscope   
Chapter 1: Scatter   
by katanashi 

Note: Takes place on 5/24/01 Smackdown, TLC III. None of this really happened; I'm quite sure both Jeff and Matt got up after the match. But my little twisted mind just had to warp things around =D.   
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* * * * *

Jeff Hardy wound the laces around his specialized boots that made his kicks a little more effective than they usually were. He wasn't normally the strongest person out there, so he he needed all the help he could get. The problem was that they were a pain in whatever part of the body to lace up. He missed a loop and groaned. He pushed back a strand of his now-purple hair back, flexed his fingers to work out the kinks, and resumed his work.

"Are we going to make this the best match of our lives?" he heard Matt say.

"Yeah, sure," Jeff mumbled, now having got his finger somehow stuck in between two of the lace-ups. He tried unsuccessfully to free them without disrupting his tedious work. 

Matt came over. "Boots again?" he asked casually.

"Yeah." Jeff shrugged nochalantly.

"Need help?"

"Sure." Jeff watched silently as his big brother easily put the lacings in the right places. 

Before a minute had passed, Matt had finished. He slapped Jeff's finished boot lightly before straightening. "All set, bro."

Jeff nodded. "Thanks."

* * * * *

They had been to a lot of matches as wrestlers, but this was the craziest match Jeff had seen yet. Tables, ladders, and chairs…and a whole lot of carnage. Edge and Christian were lying motionless on the ground, Benoit was out in a bad way, after that Con-chair-to on his broken ribs, Jericho was on his back, trying just to breathe…

They had all went after Jericho and Benoit first, since they were the champs, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough to take them out. Jericho was rightfully called the Lionheart and Benoit was as tough as his signature animal, the wolverine. 

He and Matt had taken their share of beatings. Matt had gotten the crap kicked out of him; Jeff himself had been suplexed fifteen feet off a ladder by D-Von. Jeff winced and put a hand on his back; he could still feel the pain from the impact. He was going to be sore for days after this. 

"We have to take Bubba Ray out," Matt said, next to him. They were late in the match; time was running out. Jeff nodded and winced again. Seeing the concerned look Matt shot at him, he managed to paste a smile on his face. His brother was such a worrier. It drove him crazy at times, but Jeff had to admit he wouldn't want it any other way. 

"Jeff, are you up to this?" 

Jeff steeled himself against the pain as he straightened up. He twisted his back cautiously, relieved to find that although it hadn't faded, the burning in his back was bearable. "Yeah, I can do this." He nodded to his brother. "Let's do this, Matt. Together."

Matt smiled tightly. "Yeah. Together."

They pulled Bubba Ray's feet out from under him and dragged him under the ropes. Jeff slugged him in chest and felt Bubba's fist connect with his jaw in return. He kept up with the punches, knowing that Matt would come soon with help. Sure enough, Matt came running over with a metal box he'd torn from the announcer's table and slammed it into Bubba's head, nearly knocking him out.

Jeff breathed in deeply, rubbing his jaw. "Thanks."

Matt nodded, then reached for a chair. Jeff grabbed his arm and shook his head. "You're not going to finish him off that way," he said. "Bubba's too tough for that."

Matt scowled, acknowledging Jeff's claim, but didn't relinquish his hold on the chair. "Well, have you got a better suggestion?"

Jeff turned towards the folded twenty-foot ladder. His eyes brightened with inspiration as he scampered almost like a little kid to set it up. 

Matt tried to grab his arm, but failed. "Jeff, no!" he hissed urgently, the fright obvious in his voice. "You're not going to do something as crazy as that when you're already beat up!"

Jeff swung towards him. "Alright, Matty, then how are we gonna take him out, huh? Chair shots aren't going to work. We're not going to get those titles unless we take out Bubba. You know that." He took the ladder and set it up, struggling to ignore the persistant pain in his back. It had flared up again and was really starting to bother him. He noticed Bubba starting to stir and grimaced. There wasn't much time. Luckily, Matt noticed as well, and grabbed a chair and whacked Bubba soundly over the head, keeping him in lala land. Matt then ushered Bubba onto the now-vacated announcer's table.

"Jeff…" Matt turned back to his brother, who was digging around for another ladder, and ran a hand through his hair, obviously torn. "I don't really want you doing that."

Jeff gave him a knowing smile. "I know you don't. But I want to." He grabbed the fifteen foot ladder and set it up perpendicular to the twenty-foot one. He then climbed to the top of the shorter ladder, and took a deep breath, pausing before readying himself for the plunge.

He knew it was a dangerous, highly risky manuver. But he was Jeff Hardy, high-flying daredevil of the Federation. He was the only one who had the guts, the ability-- and the craziness-- to pull this stuff off. 

Jeff gave that cocky smile one last time before placing his hands on the top ladder in front of him, and leaping. For a few seconds, he was flying, feeling that sense of complete freedom, with the air rushing past his fingers, combing his hair with its soft breeze, singing in its breathy whisper in his ear.

The ethereal atmosphere was broke abruptly as he felt himself hit the table with tremendous impact. His lower legs hit Bubba with all the force he had hoped to have, effectively knocking Bubba out entirely. He felt the table breaking and crashing to the ground, his lower back exploding in white-hot pain, and his vision blackening at an alarming rate.

He rolled over from the force of the impact, staying on his side as he struggled desperately to breath. His body felt like it had been broken in half and set on fire-- there was pain everywhere, tangible even through the dark haze that was surrounding him. He half-groaned, not aware of anything anymore. He was out; he knew it. He was vaguely aware of Tazz yelling that he was out cold, or maybe Tazz was talking about Bubba. All he knew was, he was going to need all the Advil he could get.

"Jeff!"

Jeff groaned as his dazed mind was pulled back and became a little more clear. Unfortunately, that meant the pain was back, too. He forced his eyes open and saw Matt staring at him, pure terror in his eyes. He had never seen his brother so frightened. With a start, he realized Matt was worried sick about him, as usual. Forget him! He'd done this for a reason! He caught his brother's eye and motioned slightly towards the ring. "Matt, get the belts!" he mouthed. He might have said it aloud, but he wasn't sure. Matt wouldn't have been able to hear him anyway, not over the bedlam that the crowd and announcers were making.

Whether it had come out or not, Matt got the picture. After reassuring himself that Jeff wasn't dead, he headed towards the ladder.

Jeff watched through half-lidded eyes, fighting to stay conscious. He knew Matt would take some stupid risk now, just because he had. Maybe doing that drop wasn't such a good idea after all…

Matt and D-Von Dudley battled it out on the ladders. Jeff could see Matt exchanging blows in the face with D-Von. 'Go, Matt!' he silently cheered, urging his brother on with all the willpower he could muster. He really wished he had ESP now, or telekinesis. That would be cool. He could lift up D-Von's ladder and toss him outside the ring, without moving an inch.

The blows continued relentlessly from either side. Jeff knew somebody had to take the upper hand. Otherwise, the fight would continue on until someone fell asleep on the ladder. He just hoped it was Matt.

Jeff's breath caught as Matt finally managed to punch D-Von in the gut and wrapped his left arm around D-Von's neck. Matt couldn't do this. He would hurt himself, bad. Twist of Fate wasn't meant to be off a fifteen foot ladder…

'Don't, Matt!' 

But Matt only extended his right arm, looked out the crowd, and pulled D-Von off in a Twist of Fate. The sound of the impact made Jeff's stomach turn over. D-Von was knocked out cold, but Matt was hurt too. He was writhing in pain on the ground, trying desperately to get to the ladders, but failing to even get to his feet. Jeff wished he was there to help his brother up, but he was barely able to move himself. Somehow, Matt got to his feet, hoisted the ladder up, and made his way slowly up the ladder, wincing with every step that he took. 

All the while, Jeff urged his brother on silently. 'Go, Matt, go!'

That was when Chris Jericho made his way into the ring with a chair. Jeff cursed under his breath at Jericho's inability to stay down. Matt managed to counter Jericho's rather off-beat chair swings, but then Jericho used the momentum he gained off the ropes to push Matt's ladder over. 

Jeff's mouth formed a 'O' in a soundless scream of horror as he watched Matt's ladder tip over, his body bouncing off the ropes and finally hitting the mat, where he lay in an unmoving heap. 

Jeff finally managed to get his voice working. "Matt! Matt!" he shouted hoarsely, praying, begging, hoping desperately to see his brother get up, to move his arm, to shift his head, to do anything but lay there. "Come on, Matt! Matt!"

But Matt didn't move. 

With a superhuman effort, powered only through sheer guts and his love for his brother, Jeff shifted his battered body into an upright position. Using the railing as support, he forced himself to his feet and struggled to find his way through the debris that he'd caused. Bubba was still out cold, he noted with a certain sense of satisfaction-- his nearly thirty foot leg drop had done its work. But now, Bubba-- and the titles-- had all but faded into obscurity, as he limped his way towards Matt.

'Please, God, don't let Matty be hurt too bad…' he begged with all his heart. He couldn't bear it if Matt was killed or hurt badly. 

He finally made it to Matt's side. "Matty! Matt! Wake up!" he said urgently, tugging at his brother's arm. "Matty!" He was whining, and he knew it, but he didn't give a care in the world. If whining would wake Matt up, then he would whine until the end of the world.

He heard the bell, the cheers, the groans of pain behind him, but they all mixed into one unimportant roar that he shoved behind him. What was important was right in front of him, lying in an unconscious heap. 

Jeff looked up to see medics running down with a stretcher. Three of them began attending to Matt while a fourth pulled Jeff away.

Despite his sub-par condition, Jeff fought back. "Let me go! That's my brother!"

The medic gently but firmly restrained him. "Mr. Hardy, I understand that's your brother, but you're going to have to leave him to us now. We'll take care of him."

"But…I…" The strain finally got the best of Jeff and he slumped to the ground, exhausted. The medic fussed over him, scolding him for pushing his body too hard and calling for another medic so they could help him up the ramp. Jeff was vaguely aware of his arms being slung around two other peoples' shoulders, but his eyes and mind were focused on Matt's still-motionless body that was now being carried up the ramp ahead of him to a waiting ambulance.

The medic's words rang in his head. Leave him…leave him…leave him…

Matt had never left Jeff behind, even when it had cost Matt big-time.

Memories flashed before him…a seven-year old Matt sighing as he tried to pull a toddling Jeff along with one hand while holding onto their mother's with the other…Matt trying to hide his fond smile as Jeff attacked his Christmas presents… 

Jeff would have smiled if he hadn't been so worried, as he remembered one in particular. It involved Matt, Jeff, Matt's then-girlfriend…and a lollipop.

"Lollipops," he murmered in a wry, but fond tone.

"What?"

He looked up, noticing for the first time that he was sitting backstage with Amy, who was unwrapping a roll of gauze. The medics had left. And so had Matt.

He jumped to his feet. "Matt! How is he?"

Amy shoved him back down in the chair. "They took him to the hospital, dummy. You just saw him a minute ago."

"How is he?"

"Jeff, they're probably not even at the hospital yet. But I'm sure Matt will be fine." Jeff didn't miss the flicker of worry that passed over Amy's eyes. She turned away quickly and fumbled for some Neosporin.

He watched numbly as she medicated a small cut on his arm. She finished it with a flourish as she stuck a colorful bandaid on it. Jeff peered at it.

"Power Rangers?" The mix of curiosity and incredulousness brought a flush to Amy's face.

"I thought the first red ranger was cute," she muttered. "My little cousins made me watch it all the time, and I saw these on sale, so I bought them."

Jeff nodded. "Uh huh. Suuuurrree--" 

Amy whacked him lightly. As he ouched and rubbed his already sore arm, her gaze softened somewhat. 

"I'm sorry, Jeff," she said honestly. "I'm just a little uptight about Matt. I mean, he took a really hard fall out there."

"He hit his head," Jeff said. "And he didn't wake up." His troubled green gaze met hers, begging for reassurance.

Amy sighed. "Oh, Jeff, I don't think he's hurt that bad. He's not going to die." Sometimes she wondered about this younger Hardy brother. Jeff tried to act mature most of the time, but there were spots of childishness that seemed to mark him as more half-kid and half-adult. There were other things too-- his curiousity, his lack of fear, and most of all, his occassional vulnerability. Amy could tell that Jeff loved Matt more than anything, having grown up with only his big brother to look out for him, and was dependant on Matt for his support even if Jeff wouldn't admit it. It had taken time for Jeff to be able to compete in singles matches effectively; before, only Matt's presence outside the ring had enabled Jeff to concentrate. Amy sighed again and and toyed with her hair absently.

"I'm worried, Amy. He had to have had at least a concussion," Jeff said quietly.

Amy looked up quickly, not missing the tremor of fear in Jeff's voice. "Jeff, I'm sure he'll be alright. Worst of worst, he won't be able to wrestle for awhile, but Matt will be fine." She deftly pulled his shirt off.

Jeff was caught by surprise and instinctively tried to stop her. "H-hey! What are you doing?" he spluttered. 

Amy stopped and barely held back a laugh. "I'm not trying to make a move on you, silly. I'm going to tape up your ribs."

Jeff pulled his knees up to his chest stubbornly, shivering. "I'm fine." Catching Amy's dubious glance, he scowled and turned away. "I just want to see Matt," he muttered mournfully. 

Amy stepped back and regarded him thoughtfully. "Then let's go see Matt," she said suddenly. She threw her stuff together in a disorganized pile and tossed them in a duffel bag. "Come on, Jeff. Get your stuff."

* * * * *

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Author's Notes: Well, thanks to I Hear Voices In My Head, I am now liberally switching back and forth between Amy/Lita, but I think I'm going to stick with Amy =D. I hope this will be a sort of heart-to-heart fic between all the Xtreme members, but I have no idea what I'm going to do w/ it as of yet, so I'm definetely open to any ideas. Did I make Jeff too childish?

Chapter 2 is almost ready to go...just need an ending...grr..  
Comments and feedback always appreciated ^^.

Ja ne! ~katanashi   
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	2. Birds of a Feather

It was a well-known fact that Jeff hated hospitals with a passion

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Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. 

Kaleidoscope   
Chapter 2: Birds of a Feather   
by katanashi 

Note: Again, none of this happened. Matt didn't go to the hospital =D.   
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* * * * *

It was a well-known fact that Jeff hated hospitals with a passion. He fought to stay out of them with tooth and nail, even when it was obvious he needed help. Once, when he'd fractured his leg a little more than a year ago, it took both Matt and Chris Jericho to drag Jeff to the emergency room, who'd been kicking and screaming blue murder the whole time. In light of that passionate dislike, it was a testament to Jeff's love for Matt that he was actually sitting in the emergency waiting room, slouching in his chair and waiting for Amy to come back so he'd have someone to talk with. 

He shivered. Maybe it was the air conditioning, or maybe it was the blandness of the air that he sucked in. Or maybe it was the memories of being wheeled into an emergency room just like this one, unable to move his legs, with the world going about in a frenzy around him. It had scared him to death. He actually thought he might die.

He glanced at Amy, who bit her lip. Heaven knew what was going through her mind. She had to be worried to death about Matt, but she wasn't showing it.

Jeff frowned slightly. He was worried, too, but now that worry wasn't influenced by panic. Matt had a pretty bad fall, but Amy was right-- it wasn't life-threatening. For that much, Jeff was grateful. He didn't know what he'd do without his big brother.

Still, Matt had taken a very long fall, from a fifteen-foot ladder. Adding that to the height of the ring itself and the impact which he'd hit the ropes, there was no telling what kind of damage could have been caused. Broken ribs, skull fractures, snapped neck bones-- they were all possibilities. From the paleness on Amy's face, Jeff knew she was thinking about the same thing. If Matt had been injured severely enough, he would be forced to retire. That possibility spawned a whole new deal of problems, but Jeff didn't want to think about them until they became reality. Just the thought of Matt being forced to retire made him sick to his stomach.

But now, all they could do was wait. After several minutes of sitting down, Amy had made a beeline to the front desk, where she was now stuck behind several other people. At the sight of the fiery redheaded diva standing impatiently in line, tapping her foot and puffing her cheeks restlessly, Jeff had to smile. Amy never liked to just stand around; even when she and Matt went to the movies, she'd usually stalk around and look at movie posters while Matt waited in line for the tickets. 

Jeff sighed and pulled his baseball cap farther down over his head. Most of his hair was tucked up in the cap, but a few strands had escaped. They were enough so that people noticed, but not enough for Jeff to make the effort to redo his hair, so he was stuck with some hair hanging out. The people here didn't recognize him-- which he was grateful for-- but at the same time they seemed to dislike his purple hair. One old woman with a young girl in tow gave him a disapproving look as if to say, "What are young people these days thinking?" Jeff shrugged and squirmed uncomfortably at all the distastefully curious glances people directed at him. So he liked to play around with hair colors. Big deal. He just yanked the hat down even farther and slouched as much as he could, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. 

As he glanced at his hands, however, he realized that it probably wasn't just his hair; he had painted his all his nails purple last night. He stuck his hands in his pockets quickly, blushing beneath his cap.

"Jeff, what are you doing?" Amy was standing in front of him, hands on hips and eyebrows raised.

He straightened quickly, then remembered his hair and hunched over again. "Nuthin'," he mumbled.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Right." She shoved him hard to make him sit up and sat down next to him. "If you stoop anymore you'll turn into that guy that lives on Notre Dame."

"Quasimodo," Jeff supplied. "I do not stoop that much," he added, sticking his lip out in an indignant pout and turning to face her. In doing so, his cap fell off to the floor, letting his colorful hair spill out. 

The blush on his face spread like wildfire until his entire face was red. He could feel multiple pairs of eyes turning and fixating on his head, making the skin of his neck prickle in a peculiar way. It made him feel weird. He didn't know whether to give a foolish grin or to just pretend nothing happened. And he didn't exactly want to reach down and get his hat; he had a feeling that his purple hair was a lot more forgivable than his purple nails. He looked at Amy pleadingly. 

Amy couldn't keep the smile tugging at her mouth in as she retrieved his cap, bundled up his hair, and stuck the cap on his head. Only she did a much better job than he could ever hope to do. Every purple strand was safely hidden from view.

"I knew I should have gotten you nail polish for your birthday," she teased him gently. "All the sparkly purple polish I once had is all gone because you always borrow it from me."

"I buy my own," Jeff pointed out.

"Then why are you so embarassed?" Amy asked.

Jeff shifted uncomfortably. "Um…" How was he supposed to tell her something that he didn't even understand himself? He had never been embarassed of his colorful nature before. "I just feel like I don't belong," he said at last. "I mean, with my hair and nails…"

"I know," Amy said, surprising him. 

Jeff looked at her doubtfully. "Really?"

Amy nodded. "Yeah. That's why I pulled my pants up and grabbed a jacket on my way out. I don't think people here would take kindly to a slut." She lowered her voice on the last few words, obviously bothered by their meanings.

"You're not a slut," Jeff exclaimed, barely remembering to keep his voice soft. "You know you're not one, and you know Matt and I don't think of you that way either."

Amy shrugged. "But these people are ultra conservative. Just look at the way they all dress. I bet even a low tanktop would be like a sign that says, 'slut'. And then there's me. Thong underwear showing, low-cut halter top, and a tattoo that covers my entire shoulder."

"You can't possibly think you're one." Jeff sounded totally amazed, and not in a good way.

"I don't think I'm one. But I know there's people out there who consider me one. People who ask me how can I be a good role model when I dress provocatively, with my underwear showing. Some people even have said that all I'm doing is being a sex symbol." Amy was trying to sound nochalant, but from the catch in her voice, Jeff could tell that this bothered her. A lot. 

He hunched over. "Amy, why didn't you ever tell us?"

"Because it wasn't a big deal at first. It seemed so trivial, and we all had so much to do. I tried not to let it bother me." She laughed bitterly. "I didn't think it would bother me. I've been called worse-- a lot worse. But it did. It got to the point where I couldn't stand looking at myself in the mirror, because all I'd see is just that-- a slut. And you know, it sucked. Ever since I met you guys and I came into the WWF, I always felt beautiful. Not because people told me I was beautiful, but because they treated me like I was beautiful. I felt gorgeous, successful, and on top of the world. And then I got these letters--"

"What letters?"

"Just some fanmail, I guess. Some fans they were, though. They must have been from a parent."

"What did they say?"

"Just stuff like, you're putting bad images of what's cool in our kids' minds, what has this generation sunk to and it's all the fault of people like you, why can't you at least dress decently, etc." Amy tried to smile. "It really doesn't seem like such a big deal now, huh?"

"Amy, that's only a few people," Jeff pointed out. "You know how many letters I get asking what the heck am I thinking dyeing my hair like a lunatic? I even got a letter asking if I was trying to ruin my life because of what they called my 'stupid' moves. You should go to college, you should do this, you should do that. I ripped them up and tossed them in the trash. I don't care what they think. I'm happy where I am and I love my job. Whose life is it, anyway?" He nudged her. "Don't you feel the same way?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I do. But at the same time, I do care what people think of me. Maybe it's just a girl thing, and maybe it's just me, but I always wish that people would just…I don't know, just see past my looks."

"A lot of people like your looks." Jeff absently toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting it around and trying to make patterns with the wrinkles. "And a lot of people don't."

Amy looked away. "Thanks a lot, Jeff." The sarcasm was mixed with underlying hurt.

"I'm serious. I'm not saying you're ugly, Amy. I think you're really pretty. I'm just saying you can't please everyone. I mean, some girls think I'm cute, right?"

"A lot of girls think you're cute," Amy said. She regretted the words a moment later as she realized how over-inflated his ego would become.

"You'd be surprised to learn how many girls actually like me for me. Not too many, to say the least." Jeff grinned weakly. "And I've heard people say I look like a demon when the light angle's right, or a rainbow freak-head. It bothers me, but there isn't anything I can do about it. And you're lucky that your boyfriend could care less what you look like."

"I know. Matt's wonderful."

Jeff half-gagged. "Yeah, I know. That's all I've heard my whole life, but at least I believe it. Speaking of Matt…" He glanced over at the hallway leading to the rest of the hospital nervously. "When can we see him?"

"The nurse said they're just getting him set up in his room."

"How is he?"

Amy heard the same anxious note of worry in Jeff's voice. 'He cares about Matt so much,' she marveled. She'd never seen a pair of siblings, even twins, who were bound together so strongly. If Jeff and Matt were Siamese twins they couldn't have been more attatched than they already were. "They said he's awake and talking," she said at last. 

Jeff's face lit up like a kid seeing his first Disneyland parade. "Matt woke up?"

Amy nodded. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She fingered her hair. "I was kind of wrapped up on myself."

"Amy Dumas?" The nurse called. "The doctor would like to talk to you."

Amy stood and began to walk. "Come on, that means we can visit Matt now." She motioned irritably for Jeff to get up. Jeff stood after some hesitation, then began to walk slowly. He was obviously still hurting from the TLC match and she felt a twinge of guilt at her impatience. 

Jeff caught up to her. "What made you feel that way all of sudden? Somebody say something bad to you in the line?" he asked.

"No, just the disgusted looks I was getting was enough to get the message across." Amy's tone indicated that it had clearly bothered her.

"Eh, don't mind them. Here, if it makes you feel better--" Jeff stood up, yanked off his cap, and stuck it crookedly on Amy's head. He shook his purple hair loose and grinned. "How's that?"

Amy adjusted the cap so it was backwards. It made her look, as Peter (Tazz) would say, "thuggish." She grinned. She and Peter joked around a lot, which was why he always talked about how hot she was when he was commentating. She turned to face Jeff. "Perfect." She leaned out and hugged him. "Thank you," she added in a soft voice. 

Jeff shrugged. "It's no problem. If they're gonna stare at us, they'll stare at us together." He scratched his neck with his hand, purple nails glinting in the light. 

"Jeff, your nails…"

He blushed and stuck his hands in his pockets again. As Amy began to laugh, his blush only grew. "I don't want to be too much of a freak."

Amy smiled at him fondly. 'What would we do without Jeff?' she thought as they continued to follow the nurse down the hall. Who else could be such a wacky and impetuous, yet sensitive and caring individual? He made them laugh. He was there to listen. He scared them to death with those crazy moves. 

'He's just…Jeff.' And with that thought, Amy knew she didn't want an answer to her earlier question. A world without Jeff would seem so black and white.

"Ms. Dumas? And Mr. Hardy?" A middle-aged man stood in front of them in a white lab coat, peering over steel-rimmed spectacles at them.

"Yes, that's us." Amy answered for the both of them.

The doctor smiled. "I'm Dr. Livingston, the head and neck specialist."

Amy turned white. "You're the head and neck specialist?" she repeated rather faintly as Jeff's eyes narrowed.

Dr. Livingston nodded calmly. "Don't you two have heart attacks now," he said in a comforting voice. "I'm not checking on him due to any emergency. He does have a sore neck, a concussion, and some bruised ribs, but he'll be fine. I was here to make sure that his neck won't give him problems in the future."

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness," he said.

"However, I should warn you that his concussion was fairly serious," Dr. Livingston continued. "He hit his head near or even on the temple."

"The temple?" Jeff blinked, confused.

"It's the dent on the side of your head," Amy told him, poking him playfully but not enough to hurt.

"Yes, and it is also the thinnest region of the skull." The doctor nodded to them. "He may have occassional memory lapses in the next few weeks, but they should occur less and less frequently until they altogether disappear."

"But he'll be okay?" Jeff pressed.

"Yes, he'll eventually return to one hundred percent. But until then--" The doctor didn't get the chance to finish as Jeff practically slammed through the door.

Amy smiled apologetically to the doctor. "They're brothers," she said simply, as if it explained it all. 

The doctor smiled. "Yes, I know." His warm tone indicated he did indeed understand, beyond the identical last names he had seen on paper.

"Well…thanks for taking care of Matt." Amy stuck her hand out awkwardly.

"It was a pleasure," Dr. Livingston said, shaking her hand. "I always like it when patients make full recovery. I have to check on another patient, but I'll have my nurse detail his medication and care to you two. Make sure to follow them strictly," he added with a waggle of his finger. "Otherwise, serious consequences could result."

Amy nodded. "I will. Thanks again." She turned and was about to head in when the door was jerked open and Jeff came out, lower lip sticking out in a pout.

Amy bit her own lip to keep in a giggle. "What's wrong now?"

Jeff glanced at her, his pout not fading one bit. "Matt's asleep."

Amy burst out into laughter. "Already?!" she exclaimed. "It's only--" Her face fell as she glanced at her watch. "Uh, only twelve thirty," she finished lamely.

"Yeah, and I think we already stretched nerves being here so late. We aren't supposed to even be here past nine-- at least, that's what some nurse told me before she kicked me out." Jeff kicked at the floor. "I guess they took pity on us since we were both so worried and we got here at ten something anyway."

Amy sighed. "Well, at least we know he's alright," she reminded him gently. "How did he look?"

"Normal. Only, his head was to the side, his mouth was open, and he was snoring and drooling a little." Jeff grinned a little. "Typical Matt behavior."

Amy groaned as she dragged him down the hall towards the door. "Jeff, that was not something I needed to know about my boyfriend." 'That is not something I want to wake up to,' she added to herself silently.

"Really?"

"Really." 

The two shared identical smiles with each other on the way out.

* * * * *

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Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed Amy's involvement, Annie! =D. I promise to have at least one Matt/Lita story coming up. Chapter 3 could take a little while, but I do promise to have it up soon. Until then, thanks for the support!

Comments and feedback always appreciated ^^.

Ja ne! ~katanashi   
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